REBECCA PHILLIP
Author of My Identity Journal | Creator of Identity Club
Hello, Friends!
I'm Rebecca Phillip, but most people call me Becky.
Normally, this is where I'd introduce myself through all the labels I've collected over the years. Mother, grandmother, Christian, author, entrepreneur, and a lifelong animal lover who seems incapable of maintaining a reasonable number of pets. But considering I've just written two books about identity, it would be pretty embarrassing to turn around and define myself by those labels. They're roles and labels I've embraced, but they're not who I really am.
What I know to be true is that I am an enormous spiritual being having a human experience as Becky. I wholeheartedly believe that before I ever entered this life, I chose her. I chose what she would look like, the circumstances she would be born into, and even the major experiences and traumas she would encounter along the way.
And let me tell you, Becky has had one hell of a ride.
Now, before we go any further, I should probably explain that I don't normally walk around referring to myself in the third person. I'm a little weird, but not quite that level of weird! But since I believe Becky is the human personality my spirit came here to experience, sometimes it's easier to look at it from that perspective.
You're here because you want a glimpse of the person behind the books. So I'd like to share some of the experiences that shaped my personality and how, looking back, I can see a divine blueprint for my life that made absolutely no sense while I was living it.
I also want to share my hopes and dreams for the future. Because if you really want to understand someone, ask them about their dreams. Not just the ones they talk about openly, but the big ones they keep to themselves because they're afraid they're out of reach or that someone might judge them for even dreaming that big.
And as you read, I want you to look at your own story.
How have the experiences of your life shaped your personality, your beliefs, and the identities and labels you've given yourself? What do your dreams reveal about your purpose?
The Little Girl
I grew up in the tiny town of Pinehurst, Idaho, a place where people didn't lock their doors, surrounded by mountains and pine trees. It was a former mining community where the mines had shut down and only a few stragglers remained.
My childhood was a world of contrasts. My mother was soft, loving, and kind. I would honestly describe her as the perfect mom. My father, on the other hand, was physically abusive and controlling. We lived in constant fear, never knowing what might set him off.
When I was nine years old, my father cheated on my mom and left her for another woman. For most children, that would have been devastating. But I can still remember the overwhelming joy and relief I felt.
I still had to visit him, and although the physical abuse stopped, the emotional abuse and fear continued. But at least we no longer had to live under his control every day.
For the first time, home felt like a safe place.
Mama Bear
I became a mom at the age of fifteen. To say that experience shaped me would be the understatement of a lifetime.
Some of the biggest moments came long before I gave birth. By the time I finally told my parents I was pregnant, I was already four months along. My father wanted me to get married. My mother wanted me to get an abortion.
I went to the abortion clinic, but during the consultation, they needed to do an ultrasound. I asked to see the picture, and in that moment, I made a decision no one could talk me out of.
I was keeping my baby.
Of course, I didn't exactly get knocked up by Prince Charming. Cycles have a way of repeating themselves, and I found myself drawn to an abusive man. Our relationship ended by the time my son was eight months old, and his father had very little involvement after that. So I was going to take this journey alone.
I was in no way your average teenager. At fifteen, I was already wise beyond my years. Growing up in an abusive home had made me mentally and physically strong. It had also given me an almost sixth sense for reading people's moods and intentions. I was angry and hardheaded. I refused to be controlled, refused to let anyone tell me what I could or couldn't do, and absolutely refused to become another statistic.
But looking back now, I have no idea how I did it. God must have invented some kind of time warp that gave me 35 hours in a day. I went to school, worked full-time, made dinner, helped with homework, attended school conferences, and somehow squeezed in karate. I was the provider, protector, comforter, mechanic, and handyman. Whatever needed to be done, I figured out how to do it.
My only explanation is that love conquers all. Too often, we dismiss a teenager's capacity to love, as if their love is somehow less powerful, less real, or less meaningful than an adult's. That's ignorance. I was willing to do whatever it took to love, protect, and provide for that little boy.
Those years demanded everything I had, and then some. But they built a confidence in me that no amount of money could ever buy.
You can't tell me I can't do something. I've already overcome the odds, slayed the beast, and walked out glowing on the other side.
Climbing The Ladder
When I was a little girl, I dreamed of becoming a veterinarian or a zoologist. But life had other plans.
Becoming a mother at fifteen changed my priorities overnight. Spending eight years in school simply wasn't realistic. I had a little boy to provide for, and I needed money now.
But even if I could have found the time and money, there was one other little problem with my dream of becoming a veterinarian.
I pass out all the time.
Getting shots, seeing someone have their blood drawn, or experiencing pain myself, like twisting my ankle or getting a bad cut, all make me pass out. But it doesn't stop there. Visiting someone in the hospital, watching my dog undergo a procedure, or even hearing a story about someone else's painful experience can send me straight to the floor. My family has teased me about it my entire life, affectionately calling me “the fainting goat.”
As you can imagine, a veterinarian who keeps hitting the floor might be a bit of a problem.
So instead, I spent most of my professional life in retail management. Not exactly glamorous. I've never heard a little kid announce, “When I grow up, I want to manage a big-box store!”
But looking back, the way my career unfolded was anything but ordinary.
As a teenager, I worked at JCPenney. One day, a woman walked into the store and asked me to interview for a job at Circuit City. Turns out, I was a natural salesperson. Later, one of my managers moved to Gateway Computers and invited me along. When Gateway closed, I moved across the country to Texas and tried something completely different. I was terrible at it.
So I applied to Best Buy, where I was hired during my first interview. Within months, I was promoted to supervisor. Then a company restructuring gave me the opportunity to manage an even larger department.
Eventually, I took a demotion to move back home to the Northwest. On paper, it looked like a setback. Instead, it led me to one of the greatest mentors of my life. Before long, I was promoted again, first to supervisor and then to operations manager.
By twenty-six, I was earning $70,000 a year. That was a substantial salary back then, especially for someone who had become a mother at fifteen. For the first time, I no longer worried about how I would provide for us.
By twenty-nine, I was a general manager, the youngest and only female GM in my district. That success eventually led to district and market management positions with Geek Squad.
Then life took another turn. I met the love of my life and moved across the country to Florida. Once again, I accepted a demotion. But that move eventually led me to Microsoft and, even more importantly, to meeting my best friend. I went on to become a regional manager at Microsoft before making a complete career change and becoming the owner and operator of a construction company.
And today? I'm an author. Didn't see that one coming.
Now, I'm not telling you all this to give you my résumé. I'm telling you because, looking back, I can see something I couldn't see while I was living it.
My childhood experiences and the challenges of raising a child so young had developed abilities I didn't even recognize as gifts. I could read people, lead teams naturally, solve problems, handle pressure, and refuse to give up when things got difficult.
I still can't quite comprehend why, as a soul designing my human experience, I would choose a career in retail management. I mean, astronaut, neuroscientist, explorer... the possibilities were endless, and I chose retail? Seriously?
But looking back at how effortlessly the pieces fell into place, how every unexpected opportunity, setback, and relationship led to the next chapter, I can see what looks like a beautifully executed blueprint.
Apparently, I knew exactly what I was doing. Even if Becky had absolutely no idea.
So now I'll ask you something.
Can you look back at your own life and recognize a bigger plan unfolding? Can you see how your most difficult experiences may have helped develop some of your greatest gifts?
The Healing Place
I've had a lot of dreams throughout my life. Some have come and gone, but there's one vision that has only grown stronger over the years. I call it The Healing Place.
In My Identity Journal, there's a chapter about discovering your purpose. I explain how your hopes, dreams, passions, and gifts are all clues pointing toward what you were created to do. But perhaps the simplest question you can ask yourself is this: What would you happily do for free?
For me, the answer is wrapped up in one big dream, on one very big piece of land.
I envision a farm, surrounded by nature, with enough room to build homes for my family and friends. A place where we grow our own food, share our resources, and each contribute our unique gifts to the community. Everyone has a part to play, and no one has to do everything alone.
But it's much more than a farm.
I want The Healing Place to be a sanctuary for people who need somewhere safe to land. Maybe they're recovering from emotional trauma, facing a difficult season of life, or working to heal physically. I envision bringing together different approaches to physical, emotional, and spiritual healing, with people who genuinely care about helping others. And I want these services to be available without charging the people who need them.
Then there are the animals. Because naturally, my dream property wouldn't be complete without a whole lot of four-legged residents.
We have far too many animals living terrible lives. Some are neglected or abused. Others spend their days behind bars in shelters, essentially imprisoned for crimes they never committed. I want to rescue as many as I can and give them the love, freedom, and wonderful lives they deserve.
But perhaps the biggest and most important part of this vision is helping children in foster care.
Having experienced an abusive childhood myself, and having worked as a Guardian ad Litem, I know how complicated these situations can be. I don't just dream of providing a safe place for foster children. I want to explore how we can help their biological parents heal, too.
What if we could address the circumstances that caused a family to fall apart? What if we could provide the support, resources, and opportunities for healing that might allow children and their parents to safely become a family again?
I know not every family can or should be reunited. Children's safety must always come first. But I believe we can do more to help families heal rather than simply dealing with the aftermath of their pain.
It's a calling that feels so much bigger than anything I know how to accomplish. I don't have all the answers. I don't have a detailed roadmap. And I certainly don't know how every piece of The Healing Place will come together.
But when I look back over my life, I can see how the experiences that shaped Becky also developed the abilities, compassion, and determination this dream will require.
The little girl who knew what it felt like to live in fear. The teenage mother who refused to become a statistic. The businesswoman who learned to lead people, build teams, and make things happen. The woman who loves animals, protects children, and believes everyone deserves a chance to heal.
Perhaps none of those experiences were as disconnected as they once seemed.
And if there's one thing my life has taught me, it's that the biggest opportunities rarely arrived with instructions. The doors opened, the people appeared, and somehow the next step became clear.
I have absolutely no idea how God is going to pull this off. But looking back at what He's already done in my life, I'm pretty excited to find out.